


Robin In Grays

by Samuraiter



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Female My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samuraiter/pseuds/Samuraiter
Summary: Libra sketches a sleeping Robin.





	Robin In Grays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [habenaria_radiata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata/gifts).



> Takes place after the events of the game, assumes the best possible ending for Robin.

Libra set aside the covers, taking care to arrange them to protect the modesty of his partner as he rose from the bed the two of them shared and picked up the white robe he had set aside the night before, tying it at the waist before sitting down on a stool next to the bed and picking up his charcoals, pausing only to check that the small candle on the night stand still had enough wax and wick to it keep burning for a little while. Then, he took a deep breath, set his pad down on his knees, and started sketching, the charcoals making soft scratching noises as they made lines on the rough paper.

Robin lay on her right side, her face beatific in the peace of sleep, her breath soft, her mouth slightly open, white hair more or less in place, though Libra paused to tuck a lock of it behind her ear, lest it block her expression. Before their marriage, her sleep had been difficult, nothing but fits and starts, full of dreams of another life, she had said, but those had all but disappeared after the destruction of Grima, and she had been content to spend the entire night in the arms of her husband, at peace and unafraid.

Libra had a strong desire to capture that peace in a picture. He had made several sketches of Robin, and all of them showed her in her day-to-day life, sitting in front of him, standing next to Chrom at the big map of Ylisse to discuss strategy, briefing the Shepherds about their next engagement. Those sketches represented the public Robin that all the people of Ylisse had come to love, but they did nothing to capture the private Robin that only Libra could see, the one sleeping peacefully in front of him.

_And I have to do that before it is too late_. He paused. _Not that it_ is _going to be too late. It can't be. But that's a feeling I still can't shake_. The sketching resumed. He had been certain, for a time, that he might lose Robin, if not to Grima, then to another form of cruelty, but she continued to be there, day after day, night after night, her smile as bright and exhausted as always. _Too good to endure, and yet it endures_. The sketch started to look less like a batch of lines and more like its subject as he started to add details: the folds of the blankets, the soft falls of her hair, the lines of her cheekbones.

He thought back to their first kiss, to the desperation of it. She had always seemed to be in control, not only of herself, but of the situation, and at all times, but that kiss, the way she had clung to him, had told him more of her fears and anxieties than any number of words could have. He wished he had been able to sketch her in that instant, had been able to see in her face what she had shared through her kiss but no hint of that vulnerability could be recaptured. _A portrait of that could keep me always in mind of how fleeting it all is_. He smiled to himself, pausing again. _But this is all right. This is important, too, my love at peace. I need to force myself to not be complacent_.

The minutes passed, and the sketch gradually transformed into a complete picture. _There_. He looked at it, studied all of the lines, nodded. _As close to perfect as this amateur can manage_. He shook his head. _But it is unmistakably her, and this is the way I see her in this moment. Good_. As if on cue, she opened one eye, surprising him, since he had not realized that her breathing had changed, that she had stopped being asleep.

"Caught you," Robin said, one corner of her mouth twisting into the hint of a smile. "Drawing like a man possessed. Feverish. What are you afraid of, o husband of mine?" She sat up and stretched, not bothering to catch the blankets as they fell from her. "Afraid to ask me for a nude pose? I know I'd be able to trust you to keep it yourself." She stroked her chin. "Or are you still feeling just a bit too holy for that sort of thing?"

"It's not that," Libra replied, using a fingertip to adjust the shading in several spots. "I just ... think about how lucky I am, and there's always going to be that little voice telling me that anything I love in the world can disappear at any time." He sighed. "Maybe I'll never fully get rid of that? I'm ... sorry. That's why I wanted a new picture of you."

"You never have to apologize to me, love." She smiled. "If it's done, why don't you come back to bed? I can't drive that little voice out of your head –" Her eyes had a spark in them that he had learned to recognize. "– but I can direct your attention to ... other things. I can drown the voice out, just for a little while." He set down his pad, rose to his feet, and leaned down to kiss her again. No desperation, only desire, pure and simple, though she separated from him long enough to add, "You don't have to be afraid."

"When you say it –" She untied his robe, reaching inside it to pull him close. "– you make me want to believe it." He stroked her hair, enjoying the soft _mmm_ noise she made. "You make me want to believe there's nothing in the world to worry us but what happens inside this room." His eyes darkened. "Almost like it's all an illusion."

"It's not," she whispered into his ear. "For a long time, I worried I wasn't real, that Grima was what I was supposed to be and 'Robin' did not exist." She pulled him down to her, her fingertips tracing the muscles of his back, the scars hiding among them. "But I'm going to show you just how real I am, again and again, until you're convinced."

"There's nothing in the world I want more," he whispered back, kissing her once more.

On the night stand, next to the flickering candle, the sketch of Robin remained, captured in a moment of sleep, free of nightmares and the concerns that inspired them.

**END**.


End file.
